So who was Peter Collins? Born in 1932, by the time he was eight years old Peter was shifting his father’s trucks around their Worcester transport yard, despite difficulty reaching the pedals. As a teen, he built his own car from a damaged Austin 7, fitting Ford gear into it, and straightening the bodywork. ThenContinue reading “Remembering Peter Collins.”
Tag Archives: #ThegreatOE
Getting there?
It’s wise to have a plan. It gives the rain gods something to play with. In my case, the plan was to travel by train from Buxton to Leominster (pronounced Lemster), with a single change at Stockport. The timing would give a whole afternoon to wander around Leominster, which is celebrated for it’s black andContinue reading “Getting there?”
Snippets
(Just a few snippets to share which haven’t fitted into the blogs.) From Belfast: What was it with the traffic warden that he felt the need to ticket a driver who was patiently waiting for another car to pull out of a parking space? The second car was indicating. ‘Obstruction of traffic’ he called it.Continue reading “Snippets”
Nothing can prepare you…
Nothing can prepare you for Chatsworth House. First though, getting there can be fun. Despite local buses having a timetable, clearly there’s some fiend who considers it fun to give the service a miss on a rainy day, with no warnings on the website. But Bakewell locals are onto it. Stand at the bus stopContinue reading “Nothing can prepare you…”
Brave boots
Waking up in a palace, then drawing back heavy red drapes to reveal church spires poking skywards from the tree canopy across the valley, feels surreal. Pouring hot water over instant porridge in a cup is a great leveller! So is missing the first bus. Especially when it’s linking up with a train connection youContinue reading “Brave boots”
Not just the end of the line…
According to most maps, the Manchester to Buxton train route passes through towns and villages which dotted between more rural areas, but in truth urban sprawl has absorbed old boundaries, meaning these seperate identities now touch hands. There’s no rural to be seen until just before Middlewood, and the first real farms are even furtherContinue reading “Not just the end of the line…”
To boldly go…
The People’s History Museum, Manchester, takes an unusual look at the city’s humanities journey. I was fortunate enough to visit when Pauline Omoboye was reciting her work. Do watch it on Facebook, (it’s more meaningful hearing her)… it’s on the One Manchester banner. Extraordinary woman. Manchester has strong humanity forces, starting with the arresting sculptureContinue reading “To boldly go…”
Galway
Old meets new (shopping mall in Galway): These doors, so close together, off a main street; what and who for? In Galway’s Eyre Square. Sadly the inscription has worn away… or did he erase it? These look and feel like leather, but are made from recycled cork floor tiles: The ring was a clear signalContinue reading “Galway”
Decisions, decisions.
Decisions; every day, everywhere. Some wise, others less so, but sometimes they are forced upon us… Mallow racecourse, Co Cork, 1983. With just three minutes of fuel left, the captain of a gulf-stream jet put down on the only piece of level ground he could see. And there it sat. Jet aircraft don’t work wellContinue reading “Decisions, decisions.”
Protecting what’s precious.
Dublin Castle, in the centre of town, with a street view so totally underwhelming that even some locals don’t know it exists. The entry reveals a courtyard surrounded by a brick building. But take the tour anyway, since you’re already there. And that’s the best decision you’ll make all day. Beneath the castle lies theContinue reading “Protecting what’s precious.”
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